The Bandit Prince
by Bralt
Summary: Having one sibling try to kill you is bad, having another one die while you're in another country is terrible, but perhaps the worst is knowing a sibling and watching them dissolve into madness and a shadow of what you knew them to be.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**If any of you remember some stories I never finished that you liked, please tell me. I can't keep track, and I'm trying to decide which ones to pursue and which ones to just stop...**

_The mist swirled around Halt's feet as he stood shifting in Dun Kilty's stables. He watched as a boy only two years older than he led a sturdy horse out from one of the stalls. The boy was much like his little brother with night black hair, and dark eyes that didn't show all. However, he was taller and more hard headed. As he was proving now._

_ It was the middle of the night and all was silent, making the older boy's quiet noises seem like hammers pounding on an anvil. Halt was in the shadows by the door so he wouldn't be seen. It seemed to work because the other teenager didn't seem to notice him as he went about his business. Halt would deny it if ever asked, but there was an odd sinking feeling in his gut as he watched the other boy._

_ "You don't have to leave," Halt tried to say, but his words were swallowed by the mist creeping up around him. "Father didn't mean it, you know that." Again his words were swallowed, and he began to panic. "Take me with you," he tried. This time he felt his throat clench, cutting off any more attempts at speech._

_So instead he stood in the corner silently. Once the boy's horse was saddled, he led it outside. As soon as he left the mist began to cover everything, turning it all to a churning gray nothingness. Halt's heart soared and he tried to run to the disappearing door of the stables. However, his legs would not listen and he was forced to stand still as the mist took away one scene and built another._

_ He was at Hibernia's coast staring at a large crowd of moving shapes. Though he didn't know why, he had the urge to follow a man making his way through the blurry mess ahead. Without thinking, Halt started forward. It was as if nothing else mattered besides the man in front of him, all around the faint outlines of others were moving and whispering words he didn't understand._

_The press grew thicker as he went on and he had to shove many aside to keep sight of that one man. However, for every one he shoved out of his path, two came to get in his way. Finally he was surrounded tightly and had to try and look over their heads for a glimpse of the other man. It was no use, there were too many obstacles._

_Despite that, his legs carried on and his arms kept shoving. The mass of blurry figures ended abruptly a few meters in front of a large manse. His feet carried him forward to knock on the door. _

_"He's in there," a figure behind whispered, and Halt tried to move faster. That only made him go slower though, and he watched as the mist came to wrap around his ankles and edge towards the door._

_It moved faster than he did and anxiety shot through him. He needed to open that door before it could disappear. _

_His feet kept a slow pace though, and by the time he got to the door the edges were blurring. Before he could knock on the door it opened on darkness and a familiar voice with a touch of fury said, "Leave me be."_

_The door slammed shut in Halt's face without giving him a chance to answer, and the mist swallowed it all. He felt his body tense and realized for the second time he couldn't move. A sense of utter loss filled him as the door dissolved into the mist. _

Halt slipped into consciousness without realizing it. One moment he was feeling the chill of the mist penetrating his clothes, and the next the heat and weight of heavy blankets was almost too much to deal with. He turned onto his back, not willing to give up the last remains of sleep. Lately there seemed to be more bandits than he and Will could keep up with and any sleep, filled with unnerving dreams or not, was a relief. Even so, he wasn't sure if he wanted to go back to that boy. That seemed to be all he ever dreamed about anymore.

"Halt."

This voice sounded closer and gentler than the one that had echoed in his head. Sitting up reluctantly, Halt opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep from them. It took a moment for his senses to adjust, but once they had the want to sleep was gone.

"Morning," he muttered to Pauline as he stretched his arms.

"Good morning," she answered.

Before she could say any more, Halt kissed her cheek and stood. The floor was cold beneath his feet and a slight sense of unease stirred in the back of his brain when he saw the fog outside. Shaking it out of his mind, he made his way out to the kitchen. Pauline followed him out and wrapped her arms around him as he made his coffee.

"What's wrong?"

Halt shifted slightly and raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm half awake and somebody is in the way," he said.

Pauline rolled her eyes but released him and sat down at the table. Once he had poured his coffee he sat down across from her.

"You were mumbling in your sleep, and I was shaking you for a good ten minutes before you woke up," she answered with an accusing look.

Halt took a sip of his coffee to avoid answering. He knew who the older boy and the man had been in his dream, and it disturbed him. There was no reason to be thinking of him, especially not now, so many years later. However, he knew it was ridiculous to be worried or even bothered with it. He'd seen the body being lowered into the grave. That was all the proof he needed to be ascertain of that man's death, there was no reason to concern Pauline with it all. It'd just make her try to sympathize with him and some things were best left alone and forgotten. It'd worked once, it could work again.

"Just a dream," he told her. She looked at him unbelieving but accepted it. It was too early to deal with anything anyway.

He finished his coffee in silence and was about to go back to the bedroom to change when there was a knock at the door. Scowling, he went over and opened it. Almost immediately he was grabbed by a man in mail with a sword at his hip. Crowley stood in the hall looking at Halt in a confused way.

"Halt O'Carrick, you're under arrest," he said in a quiet, astonished voice.

**Alright, that was terrible...please review**


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